Semantic Satiation
by enchanted6818
Summary: Armin remembered the affection he held for his friends, and remembered reaching a vast body of water. He also remembered a single body, that of a teenage boy, floating away into the depths of the ocean.


For as long as Armin could remember, he had always had dreams and nightmares of another time, of another world even. These memories consisted of fuzzy faces, but dreadful clarity to the world around him. Once Armin was old enough to make sense of these, he started writing them down. They always ended up the same; Armin remembering as clear as day the situations, the voices, the horror, the fear- but never the faces. He knew that in the past- Before, he called it with a twisted sense of affection- he had had friends, a boy and girl. He had belonged to a military squad who helped to protect the good of humanity. He had remembered the Titans, and the fear Armin had felt when he had to face them. Armin remembered the affection he held for his friends, and remembered reaching a vast body of water.

He also remembered a single body, that of a teenage boy, floating away into the depths of the ocean.

When Armin dreamed of the body in the water one night when he was in his early teens, he had woken up crying and shivering. He ended up staying up all night writing and trying desperately to remember the boy's face, knowing it held some sort of significance to him.

But he never could.

Armin started his day off generally the same every day; waking up at an ungodly hour to be able to shower and eat breakfast, before taking the 7:15 bus to his university to get there for his eight o' clock class. He often stopped at a small on-campus café, full of dreary and sleep-filled college students and teachers of all ages. If the bus arrived to campus early, Armin treated himself to a fresh cup of coffee and perhaps a snack for later. If not, he would rush to his lecture.

Today was one of the good days, where the bus encountered little traffic and Armin had seven minutes to spare. He walked into the small shop and ordered a medium cappuccino, pausing a moment to look out the window as he waited for his order. Armin watched, a slight smile on his face, as people passed. There was a mother and a small boy skipping down the street, a couple holding hands and laughing, a young dark-haired girl wearing a bright red scarf in the autumn weather, an older man eating alone on a nearby bench. The little girl in the red scarf saw him through the window of the shop, and Armin waved a little at her. The girl looked shyly up at her mother, before waving back, in the over-excitable body shaking way little kids do. Armin smiled again, but paused when his eyes caught her scarf.

It really was a nice color, a bright red that was slightly worn at the ends. Armin remembered seeing a similar article of clothing before, he just forgot where. Maybe it was in a store window? Or maybe his mother had worn something like it when she visited this past winter. Armin turned to get his coffee, his eyes meeting the clerk. He paid and thanked her, before turning to leave.

_Oh._

Armin remembered where he had seen that color; where he had seen that scarf. Armin sat quickly on a nearby chair, shaking and gasping for air. People nearby gave confused and worried looks, but he brushed off the people's help with a strained smile and a breathy "No, really, I'm fine."

The girl from his dreams, one of his best friends from Before now had a name and a face. And, there, in the middle of a public place, his coffee growing cold and now late for class, Armin sat and stared at nothing while tears dripped down his face.

After the embarrassing debacle in the café that morning, Armin was keen to return home. His class was about halfway done, so there was no point in Armin's mind to go. He'll simply say he felt sick before class and went back to his apartment. It wouldn't be much of a stretch, considering the churning of his stomach and the clamminess of his hands. One of his classmates is kind enough to give Armin any missed notes whenever he is out; he'll just review them with her tomorrow.

Armin took the next bus home, coffee still in his hand and had long since gotten cold. Armin didn't have the heart to throw it away; maybe it was the fact he had spent a good ten dollars on it, maybe it was a way to remember. Either way, when Armin arrived home, he dumped the coffee down the sink. He carefully washed and dried the waxy paper, setting it down on the windowsill above his sink. Armin refused to look at it, instead taking out is biology notes and studying them for the rest of the night.

He fell asleep to the sound of the city and the image of a smiling Asian girl with a red scarf and tired eyes.

Over the next few weeks, Armin tried to simultaneously remember his past memories and forget any of his past breakdowns ever happened. It was a test of his self control not to burst into tears every time he recalled a name or face. Armin was at the local supermarket choosing between granola bars when he saw a middle-aged couple pass. The two were bickering; the taller of the two looking down amusedly at the shorter. The shorter man frowned, craning his neck up to look his partner in the eye. The taller man smiled, kissing the other's forehead. Armin quickly wheeled his shopping cart away, smiling fondly at the memory of a very similar couple; one tall, blonde, and missing an arm; the other a shorter, black-haired man with an even shorter temper.

Sometimes the memories were simple and sweet. Those were the kinds Armin liked, because they put a smile on his face for a long time afterward. Usually, he remembered events such as the dining hall, training, spending time with his friends around a blazing fire. Most of the faces were blurry and the names missing, but slowly Armin started remembering everyone. Armin felt particularly guilty how his memory of Jean Kirstein and Marco Bodt resurfaced. He had been going for a drive in his mother's car one evening and he had passed a ranch. On the ranch, there had been a tall, tawny horse with a dark mane, and his rider had been a tall blonde with dozens of freckles. Armin had had a good laugh, but still felt guilty about it because in his past life Armin had made sure to not refer to Jean as "horse-like," as it seemed a bit insulting to Jean at the time. But there he was, giggling like a child at the old nickname.

However, sometimes the memories and recollections left Armin shaking and sweaty, making him want to cry and vomit. He just remembered a situation like it that night, and it was well into the next morning with Armin still shivering. Armin had remembered death, destruction, and a sadness so unbearable it made Armin want to rip his hair out. It had all concerned his best friend, the boy whose name and face Armin couldn't quite grasp. Armin remembered sitting next to a hurriedly made bed, clutching a bruised hand and watching in quiet horror as his friend re-grew an arm and a leg. He remembered blood, the scientist – Hanji, was their name – pushing him out, screaming about how the boy was losing a lot of blood and not regenerating fast enough. Armin remembered the sobs and tears he shared with Mikasa and the rest of their friends, all of them giving him comforting looks.

It took all of Armin's efforts to make it to class that day.

Armin's professor, an older man in his late eighties, had been merciful in today's lecture. With upcoming final exams, some in the form of essays, written tests, or theses, the professor briefly went over course requirements for that specific class - chemistry, with Armin focusing on biochemistry - and what was to be expected of the students for the final. The professor then allowed everyone to continue studying or researching for the rest of the 90 minutes they would have. Some students went back to their residence, some stayed and spoke with the professor, and others stayed seated and discussed possible theses with other students.

Armin acquired all missed notes and any reading material he would need for his essay. After speaking with his friends in the class, Armin decided that his apartment might be a better place to review, as it had fewer distractions and less noise. Besides, he could pick up a coffee and a bag of pastries and bagels and such for breakfast tomorrow; it would save time in the morning, especially if he would be up late tonight studying.

Armin's engineering class didn't start until later in the day, so he had enough time to bus home and study for a bit; maybe make himself an actual meal instead of ordering takeout or living off of turkey sandwiches. He stopped off at the café and got food and drinks for tonight and tomorrow, and rode the bus home.

The bus ride was always uneventful; usually just a bunch of other college kids who were too lazy or too tired to initiate conversation. Armin was usually left to lean his head against the grimy window and clench his teeth whenever the bus encountered a harsh bump or jolt. At this time, Armin hoped his coffee didn't spill all over his textbook.

After a long night of studying useless facts until his head swam, Armin was looking forward to his coffee the next morning. He made sure to wake up extra early so he could catch the earlier bus and get a small breakfast and coffee.

Armin made it to the café fairly uneventfully, and he waited in line. Again he ordered a small cappuccino, and again stood waiting for the cashier to ring up the order. His eyes wandered around the café to the couples and teachers and students in need of a morning boost. Armin quickly glanced outside, at the leaves slowly turning gold and red and brown, at the cracks in the sidewalk, at the stop lights turning green, and at a tall boy wearing a green scarf meandering his way through the crowd. Armin kept his eyes on the man, frozen as the man looked up, allowing Armin to see his bright eyes and dark hair complimenting dark skin.

In a flurry of movements Armin never thought possible, he threw money at the startled clerk at the counter before running out the door, desperate to catch up to the familiar boy. Suddenly, every memory, both good and bad, made sense. This was the boy Armin could never remember; his best friend, his teammate, his squad member, his lover. A name bubbled up from his throat, new and familiar at the same time.

"Eren!" Armin cried out, running to catch up with him.

Eren turned around, green eyes widening comically and toothy smile spreading across his rosy cheeks. Eren pocketed his phone and tossed his half-drunk coffee into a nearby trashcan. Armin ran straight into Eren, face crushed into the juncture of Eren's neck and shoulder, nose pressed to the fabric of the brunet's scarf. Eren wrapped his arms tightly around the smaller boy, one arm around Armin's waist and the other cradling the blonds' head, fingers weaving into the long hair. Armin started laughing, that desperate laugh people make when torn between crying and smiling. Eren pressed his cheek against Armin's head, and in turn Armin moved his lips against Eren's shoulder in a never-ending mantra of _"You're here You're real I love you I've missed you."_

People passed by, some giving strange looks to the couple taking up the middle of the sidewalk, others smiling at the cute display of affection. Neither boy cared. Armin pulled away smiling, with tears streaming down his face. Eren looked down at his face, thumbs tracing the blond's cheeks, tears mingling with his own. He let out a slight smile, which Armin returned whole-heartedly. Wordlessly, they separated, and walked hand-in-hand to the bus stop, Armin intent on making up for lost time.

The two boys lay side by side on Armin's small twin-sized bed, legs entangled and arms wrapped around waists and shoulders. Armin's blond mingled with Eren's brown on the pillow, and Armin thought of the sun and earth. Clothes were strewn across the room; Armin's in decidedly neater heaps while Eren had just tossed his tee shirt and jeans around the room. Eren, being a self-proclaimed gentleman, had allowed Armin to wrap the sheet around his waist, and himself dealt with the chill of the room in nothing but his briefs.

Eren had peppered Armin with questions, asking where he grew up, what he was majoring in, how his family was, and if he had met anyone else. In turn, Armin simply smiled and asked his own questions. He learned Eren was taking a gap year in between his sophomore and junior years, while pursuing many part-time jobs to help pay student loans. Eren learned that Armin was studying biochemistry and Armin had an interest in astrology. Eren had insisted that Armin tell him all about the stars, and how could Armin refuse those large eyes and bright smile? So Armin spoke for hours about the stars, constellations, and the mythos behind certain ones. It eventually morphed into talk about the ocean, something they both remembered from their shared past life.

"So, did you all make it to the ocean?" Eren's hands came up around Armin's shoulders, his head atop the shorter boy's. Armin gave a slow nod, smiling sadly.

"We did."

Eren hesitated; he remembered a lot about the previous life, but his memories stopped at a certain point. The last thing he remembered is lying on a lumpy bed in the infirmary covered in steaming blood and tears. Eren took a deep breath.

"Who, ah, made it there?"

Armin squeezed his eyes shut. This was the question he had been dreading. There was a pause, where Armin took a moment to clear his thoughts, a particularly horrific memory rising to the surface.

"I did. Jean was there too, along with Sasha and Connie. Moblit came along; at the time Hanji was too injured to come with us. Historia made it too." The unspoken message came across loud and clear to Eren.

Armin felt tears stream down his face. Eren swept the pads of his thumbs under Armin's eyes, and bent his head to kiss his nose. Armin inhaled sharply, gasping out a strangled cry.

"Sorry, sorry, I just, ah, need a moment," Armin sniffled, burying his face in Eren's neck momentarily. Eren brought a hand up and around Armin's head, cradling it there.

"Yeah," Armin started again. "That's all that was left of us. Well, our original group that is. Sasha and Connie stayed together," Armin laughed bitterly. "They got lucky." Eren found himself getting choked up, and he pressed his lips to Armin's forehead in hopes of some form of comfort.

"Mikasa died helping Levi-heichou, and Erwin survived the last battle, but then died a little while after. Levi-heichou also died of injuries, but at least he survived a few more weeks," Armin clutched Eren, tears dripping down their chests.

"We-" Armin stopped, sobbing uncontrollably. When he spoke again, it was in a torn, broken voice. "We buried you in the ocean, Eren."

Armin looked up at Eren. "I watched as you floated away. You were _smiling_ and floating away and I couldn't do anything to save you and Jean and Sasha and Connie and Historia- they stood with me and watched as you left. And all I remember from there is just overwhelming sadness and not being able to go with you and-"

Armin knew he was babbling, but he had to get the words out. He knew full well that he was probably getting snot and salt water all over Eren, but he just lay there, holding Armin with everything he had. Eren traced comforting circles into Armin's back and neck, tears mixing with Armin's.

"Maybe we could find everyone else," Eren mused, eyes lighting up at the prospect of seeing his friends and family again. Armin blinked the tears out of his eyes, confusion clouding his brain. Why would Eren want to waste his life looking for people they didn't even know existed yet? Armin voiced these thoughts aloud, voice cracking from crying.

"We don't even know where they are, if they even exist in this time," Armin wanted to see everyone, of course; it's all he'd been dreaming of since before he could remember. But Armin also knew the two boys had to remain logical.

"Well, that's what looking is for! I'm almost certain their surnames didn't change; I mean ours didn't, so theirs shouldn't have changed. Plus nowadays we have social networks to find everyone," Eren frowned, removing his arms from around Armin and sitting up. Armin shook his head.

"But think of it this way: in the past we were the same age, Eren. Now, there's almost two years between us. Who knows if this affects everyone else? Mikasa could be in her seventies while Connie could have just been born last week, or something," Armin felt himself getting frustrated and angry. He sat up as well, gesticulating wildly as he attempted to prove his point to the brunet.

"Well, at least they're alive," Eren tried arguing, getting angry as well.

"But who knows if they remember!" Armin felt his voice rising just the slightest bit. He fought to keep himself in check. "I only just started remembering these things when I was 13, but you remembered everything from the past almost immediately. What if everyone else isn't like that? We could find Jean one day and run up to him, but he wouldn't know who we were."

"Maybe it takes a glance at our faces and he'll remember everything! That's how you remembered me, isn't it?" Eren cried out, throwing his arms up and face burning. "And what's with this 'we' stuff; maybe we won't be together when _I go_ looking for everyone else."

Eren knew he was grasping at straws here, but he just wanted Armin to see his point. He knew even before he said it that those words would hurt Armin. When Eren saw the crushed look on his companion's face, he immediately regretted saying anything.

Armin stood up out of bed, sheets pooling at his bare feet. "Is that what you really think?" Armin couldn't be angry; he tried, but his words came out soft, hurt, and almost timid. Deep down, he knew Eren had said that to get a rise out of him, but it still hurt immensely. It brought back feelings from the past Armin had tried to ignore; the feeling of inadequacy, of helplessness, of never being good enough no matter how hard he tried. Armin knew those things weren't true, and that he had been a valuable member of the Survey Corps, even if his value was in his intellect and reasoning not his physical prowess, like Mikasa or Jean or Annie. But hearing it come from the man he had loved, well, felt like the ultimate form of betrayal.

Eren knew he fucked up, and he knew he had to try to do something to fix it. He reached out to Armin from his place on the bed, and tried not to flinch when Armin refused his hand and looked away.

"Why… Am I not good enough?" Armin's voice was low, but laced with confusion and bitterness.

Eren started, eyes narrowing in confusion. "Armin, why would you think that?"

Armin turned to Eren, cheeks flushed and hands in tense fists. Tears had sprung to his eyes, but refused to fall.

"Well, you keep saying that you want to see and find everyone else. Are you not satisfied with one other person knowing you?" Armin blinked, and hot, angry tears fell. "I struggled all my life trying to find someone who understands. And I found you again, and I was so happy! Just the thought of one single person remembering what I remember and being there for me was enough to make me happy; _is_ enough to make me happy," Armin gestured between them. "And now you're saying that one person isn't enough. So I'll say it again Eren: am I not good enough?"

Armin looked Eren dead in the eye, his form blurry from the onslaught of tears. "Do I not make you happy?"

Eren sat in shock, trying to comprehend what had just happened. He quickly scrabbled his way out of bed, tripping and stumbling his way to Armin.

"No, Armin. You make me the happiest person alive, if that's even possible. I wouldn't trade you or our experiences for anything," Eren gently rested his warm hands onto Armin's pale shoulders.

"I just thought, you know, it'd be nice to see everyone again. To catch up; talk about their new lives; to be able to say 'See you later,' instead of 'Goodbye.'"

Armin nodded. He knew this deep down, but he couldn't help the fear and betrayal he had felt. He allowed Eren to pull him onto the bed, and the brunet pulled him into his lap.

"I'm sorry if I gave off the wrong message and if I made you feel hurt and terrible about anything," Eren stated clearly and sincerely, holding Armin's gaze. Armin nodded.

"I know you didn't mean it. I should've known that you didn't mean it in the way I interpreted it," Armin rested his forehead against Eren's. "I just got really scared for a minute there; I don't want you to leave me."

Eren pressed a kiss to Armin's cheek before responding. "I had no right to say what I did. And I feel terrible about it. But I want you to know this Armin," Eren pulled away from Armin to look the smaller boy in the eye.

"I'm not leaving this time," Eren spoke, voice cracking, but still solid and firm. "Even if we don't work out as a couple or even as friends, I want you to know that I will always be here, even if you don't want me around."

Armin shook his head, pressing a short, wet kiss to Eren's chin. "I never want you to leave. I think we'll be fine."

Armin nestled his head under Eren's chin, snuggling to his chest. Eren tightened his hold on Armin, kissing him one last time.

"Yeah, we'll be okay…"


End file.
